by Marie Wathen
He always speaks down to her, everyone actually. Hating seeing the hurt in her eyes, I turn away because I don’t understand why she stays with him. It’s not love, it never was for them. My mom’s father arranged their marriage. My father was a drunkard, playboy who was destroying his life with wild women and drugs until she came along. Grandfather Jacobs made demands on him when he got my mother pregnant with my sister while they dated, using the word “dated” loosely because he only slept with women.
I’m similar to him in this way with my personal life. In business practices, we share the same unstoppable tenacity when pursuing our objectives. We also don’t play well with others and are usually left to work things out on our own. But that is where our similarities stop. Character flaws that we do not share are his arrogance, cruelty, and perverse authority.
My mother is an exquisite woman with beauty and brains. If given an opportunity, she could run the WC just as well as any of the Walker men. At times, she can be affectionate and caring, but her heart is damaged from the years of pain inflicted by her husband, I would give anything to stop her pain. Looking at me, she smiles while her eyes glistened with unshed tears. They won’t fall, they never fall. She is a master at controlling her emotions after twenty-five years of marriage. Watching, I see her reigns in strength then she pursues the conversation.
“You are right, dear. I made a mistake.” She smiles apologetically. Ignoring her, he busies himself on his laptop with his filled whiskey tumbler and she sighs. “We’ll just talk about something more exciting Morgan. What did you think about the sweet gift I sent you last week Darling?” Thinking back over the week, I raise both eyebrows while questioning any recent courier deliveries, I’m at a loss.
“My apologies Mother but I didn’t receive a courier delivery recently.” Looking in Gran’s direction, she doesn’t make eye contact with me.
“No, I’m sure you wouldn’t Morgan. It’s not something that came by courier. It was a special delivery in person.” She smirks disturbingly.
“What did you do Mother?” Fearing a major Haleigh catastrophe, I brace myself.
“I sent the most decadent gift any young man such as yourself would enjoy but you don’t know if you received it? I do believe you would remember this present Morgan.” Standing, she walks over and sits beside me. Taking my hand, she draws it to her lap staring directly into my eyes.
“Morgan, I have something that I want you to do for me. It’s the most important request I have ever made of you Darling and I need to you really take some time and think about it. I want an answer tomorrow after the party.” Gran snorts, distracting me momentarily. Glancing up, I see her forehead crinkle sorrowfully.
“Mother, I love you but I can’t make any promises. Why don’t you explain to me what’s going on and I’ll agree to think about it?” I really don’t have any idea what she is scheming, but whatever it is has Gran in a tizzy and that’s never good.
“As you are well aware, your father and I have been out of the country on business. While we were in Cape Breton, we were fortune to spend time with the Carrington’s. I was most impressed with their family dynamic. They have a rather large family, six children. Stephan works in the Nova Scotia office under you father. As it turns out, the Carrington’s are looking to merge with Walker Corporation by early next…”
The remainder of her thoughts abruptly halts when Barret strides over and lifts her, rather roughly, by the arm. She startles but doesn’t make a sound.
“This topic borders work Haleigh. We just returned home so you will refrain from this line of conversation for the remainder of the evening. Let me escort you to our room Haleigh” Dragging her out of the room, he tosses an order over his shoulder. “Morgan, come to my office in an hour. We’ll discuss then.” Watching him manhandle her, my body goes rigid. It appears that he is not actually harming her. She offers me a melancholy smile.
My mother doesn’t get the respect she deserves from her husband, but she’s never complained about it. Always being the good wife, she does his bidding, keeps her attitude in check and in doing so she’s locked herself in this hell. She will never realize her true worth and he’ll never appreciate her. How they can choose a relationship lacking respect, or even love for that matter, is completely fucked up.
Hell I don’t want to fall in love, but if I were to marry, she’s going to have all of me or I won’t be with her. My wife will be a woman worthy in more ways than her bank account or her family name. My father did what any southern raised gentleman would do by marrying a woman carrying his baby, but he did it for businesses purposes only. If she would have been a woman from a lower class family, she’d be paid off and he would not be in my sister’s life. Their relationship is a business merger, bringing together the Walker and Jacob assets and contacts. There is no need for him to be cruel.
“Morgan, have you spoken with your brother yet?” Shit. Gran’s not going to let go of the idea of me and Marcus reconciling.
“He’s not around much Gran. I’ll speak to him the next chance I get. You have my word.”
“Well, perfect timing. He’ll be here tomorrow.”
She’s not going to leave this alone. I want to placate her, but she’s an obstinate woman who will stick to a topic like a dog with a bone. She won’t be satisfied until everyone is happy and unified.
“Yes ma’am. I understand. I’m going to wait for dad in his office. You both have a good evening.”
Making my escape quickly before she drags Granddad and his opinion into the mix, I walk into dad’s office and memories flood me. I recall the many days that I sat under his desk while he worked. He would manage business from home on the weekends, nights, and every holiday. If I need to speak with him, this would be the room to find him when he’s home. It is in no way an aesthetic room. The decorating in his room is minimal with large leather and dark wood furnishings. No family photos line the walls or adorn his desk. He does have one entire wall dedicated to himself.
The “I love me” wall, as I refer to it, holds his scholastic accomplishments, including his engineering degree from Stanford. I will soon have this credential to add to my accomplishments. Following his path to one day run Walker Corporation, I will do whatever it takes to get there as quickly as I can.
Moving to California to finalize my education will placate Granddad’s one request. I must have my degree before he turns over the reins to me. My father and uncle Beck don’t know Granddad’s promise to me and it’s going to blow their damn minds when I accept his offer. Staring at my father’s Stanford Diploma smiling with a hint of pride in myself, I feel a strangling sensation grab my throat and begin gasping for air.
Am I having a panic attack?
“Morgan. Have a seat.” My father enters the room and my sudden anxiety resolves itself. Taking a seat in the large high back leather chair in front of his desk, I casually lean back. He makes haste, sits, and pulls a large file from his locked desk drawer. He places in front of me and slides it toward me. Glancing down, I recognize the name but remain confused. I look at him for an explanation.
“You need to go through this information and familiarize yourself with the Carrington Corporation before next week’s trip. I want you with me when we meet with Ned to discuss the proposals enclosed in that file. Your input will be expected so don’t dick around with this Morgan. I don’t want you looking like a dumbass when we get there. Whatever party plans you have for tonight cancel them and study the shit in it.”
Tapping his finger on the file he drills me to my seat with his hard glare. I won’t let him see me react to his brass attitude. He doesn’t control me like he does his wife. Out of respect, I pick the file up and flip through it while I nod my acknowledgment.
“Do you have any questions?” Leaning against his chair back, he lets out a harsh breath saturated with discouragement.
“What’s my role in the trip other than to be familiar with his company?”
“I’m glad you ask. Your mother
hinted at it earlier and that’s what I brought you in here to discuss. I expect you to show some restraint with this particular gift, as she likes to call it. I know your style, hell I lived it for years before your mother. Restraint is not your forte, but this is a delicate situation and you will control all those fucking ideas sure to run through your mind. This family has an opportunity to join with an elite corporation whose interest in W C is proving to be ideal in moving us toward our ultimate goal to be number one in the world as sustainable living developers. Ned more than wants us, he’s got a fucking ragging hard on just thinking about getting in bed with us to form the strongest and best connected corporation on the planet.”
Pausing, I slowly bob my head, absorbing all of this information and at that moment my mother quietly enters the room with us. Walking over to him, her eyes bounce cheerily between me and him, clearly aware of where this discussion is going.
“We have always expected greater things from you than your brother and sister. You have more determination and at least want to be involved with this company by taking the summer job dad offered. We too have a business endeavor we need you to consider. And when I say consider, I actually mean I expect you to do it. You have the option of choosing not to, of course. But this will disappoint us and delay our goals for the future of Walker Corporation.” He states gruffly, piercing me a stare that reads “I dare you to defy me.”
Dad’s laying the guilt on thick.
“Cut the shit dad. Whatever it is you want me to do just say it and let’s not play games. Neither of us is good at it so no need to start now. What do I have to do?”
“In the file you will see the contract we will propose to Ned, but he’s seen it and has agreed to our demands. However, he made a few demands of his own. And one of them is you. He wants you to marry his daughter.” I feel the air in the room go still as I stare at his stone face, waiting for the fucking punch line. There is none. He’s waiting for me to respond and I don’t think I can.
My mother moves around the desk and leans on it as she clasps her hands together. “Darling, I know this is sudden and you’re probably thinking that it’s too soon, but I want you to consider that you don’t have to marry her right away. So there’s time for you to adjust to the idea.”
“No, you don’t have to marry her now, but you are expected to begin a relationship that will lead to a proposal hastily. Ned will wait for your commitment before he signs the contracts. Next week you will give him the answer he wants and we begin the process to move to the top of the food chain, where we fucking deserve to be,” Dad reiterates as he’s crossing his arms over his chest.
I’m still dazed. Absorbing this information requires hard liquor. I stumble toward his liquor cabinet and pour three fingers of Johnny Walker, shoot it and refill. While I poured the second down my throat, I notice my hand is shaking uncontrollably and I slam down the decanter a little too roughly.
“Morgan, we understand this comes as a shock but I think that after you’ve had some time to consider all that is involved you will be satisfied with the results. We have your best interest in mind when we spoke with Ned and agreed to entertain his daughter for the summer.”
Whipping around facing her, my hand tightly grips the tumbler, almost shattering it. “Dammit mom, I have to entertain some princess this summer?”
“No son, she’s already here. Like I said earlier I sent her here last week. Did Elise not come see you the moment she arrived from England like she promised me?”
Elise! Fuck! All the air is sucked out of the room.
“Mother, Elise who?” I say nervously. Certainly she doesn’t mean the same Elise. There must be some mistake.
“Elise Carrington. I sent her here last week to meet you. She told me that she knows you and your brother. It thrills me to know that you both are already acquainted. She is a lovely young lady and comes from one of the most regarded influential families in the world.” She smiles with pride and true happiness is etched across her face.
This makes her happy and I won’t disappoint my mother.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Marcus
(Graduation Party, early evening)
As I roll onto my stomach, a reminder of what I did to earn the soreness of last night plays along my strained muscles and overworked bones. Kole's ass whooping during training, plus all- night surveillance on Breesan has me overworked and my ass is dragging. I’m not craving brains for breakfast but I feel like the walking dead, sleeping late is my cure.
Unlocking my phone's screen to silence it before my phones alarm goes off, I’m too late. The extremely loud vibration scares me and I drop the phone on the floor. Stretching over I retrieve it, slide the screen lock, and flip through my text messages. No messages but I did miss a call during the early morning from Sam. It’s time I tell her and the team about Breesan. I press the phone icon next to her picture and click send. Several rings and I get her voice-mail and wait for the beep. I send her a text asking her to call me.
Lurching to my feet, I groan along with my aching muscles and slide into the shower. Spending most of yesterday thinking of all the ways to tell Breesan that I want her, I opt for honesty. I want her to be honest with me so I owe it to her. Needing her to understand there is no malicious intent in my omission; I plan to tell her everything as soon as I see her. I just don't know how to tell her what I do. Can I reveal everything? As much as I want her, and I do want her so damn badly, I am not free and it's not fair. Fuck fair!
When I tell her what I do and the truth about what's going on, will I be good enough for her? Maybe not, but I'll be damned if I let Morgan anywhere near her. She's damn well too good for him, and he’s taken enough from me. If it's the last thing I do, I’ll keep him the hell away from Breesan Maxwell.
Half an hour later, I'm driving over to Granddads. It's early evening so I guess I'm early for the party. Hopping out of my Jeep, I make my way around the side of the house to the backyard. The music is pouring out the speaker system and the grill is smoking. It looks as though Tristan and his buddy Bates are manning it under supervision of Granddad. I walk past the swimming pool crowded with nearly naked girls and drunken guys.
"Pops!" Catching Granddad's attention, he walks up, grabs my hand, and pulls me into a tight embrace.
"Hey son, are you just getting here?" There is alcohol on his breath and he is slurring.
"Yeah, it's a little early to tie one on, wouldn't you say?"
"Boy, you know I only drink to tolerate my sons. Nah, I've only had three all day. Your Gran cut me off when the pit caught fire so it's all downhill from here." He's chuckling at himself.
"Where is everyone? I noticed Tristan walking in through the back door with food as I came up. Where are my folks?"
Delaying the inevitable of seeing him won't stop my dad from giving his two cents on my actions from last year. I stopped pleasing him years ago so I don't expect to do or say anything today that will make me look better in his eyes. There's not much that makes Barret Walker happy, but whatever does is usually done by Morgan. He is the golden child and I am the disappointment.
"Morgan and Breesan just got out of the pool and Anna hasn't made it over yet. Go find your dad and clear the air so you can enjoy what’s left of the party. Oh and send Tristan back out here. I think he's had enough of his father for one day. Besides I have another twenty pounds of steaks left to cook up and Bates found a girl willing to let him kiss her. Huh, huh." He throws his head back and roars out a hearty laughter.
Chuckling with him, I shake my head. If Gran hadn't already cut him off I would have told her she might want to consider it. Pop rarely drinks and when he does, he is very opinionated and your feelings can be damned.
"Yes sir."
Wandering back across the yard through the garden and patio, I can hear loud, hostile voices coming from just beyond the doorway
in the dining room. Just as I reach for the door, Tristan pushes his way out. He is brooding and definitely drunk.
"Sorry Mac, you sure you want to go into that fucking war zone?" I sigh. Mac is the one nickname I actually don’t mind him calling me. After all, it’s Granddad’s nickname as well. Bumping into me, he keeps walking toward Granddad and the grill.
"Shit, Trist. Easy man, where's the fire?" I grab his arm and slow him down but he keeps walking away from the house and I go with him. I need to get him sorted. He would do the same for me. Hell, he's played interference with Barret for me on more than one occasion.
"Dammit, I've had it with him and his bullshit. And your dad is his wingman so take my advice and stay the hell out of there. Granddad’s had a few, so you know their pansy asses are too scared to come out and face him." Tugging his arm away from my hold, he continues through the garden still intent on getting away.
"Is he on you about school again? Fuck Beck, his opinions and self-righteous attitude mean shit to me now. And anyone else’s for that matter? He growls, pinning me with a defiant stare. You still have family that will always have your back. I’m here if you need me Bubba."
"Hey! I know you do. I’m not worried about that shit. You know I've got your six too. Seeing his anger subside after offering my support, he grabs me by the shoulder. “By the way, Morgan and Breesan are in the house. I think she's in your bathroom showering from their swim."
Thinking of her in my shower is enough to make me wild. I force my feet to move forward. Urgency to get to her just intensified, I charge toward the dining room door. I'll be damn if my father being inside is going to keep me from her. I'm getting pissed just thinking about the possibility that Morgan might sneak in there while she's undressed.
"Mac," Tristan yells halting me then jogs over. "Uh, she is…damn it." He shoves his fists into his front pockets of his swimming trucks. "You need to know that…she is..." scraping his hands over his face he drops his shoulders and stabs me with a look of distress. “Dammit Mac. Morgan kissed her." Jerking my head up, I give him my full attention.